


something that'll haunt me when you're not around

by secretsarenotforfree



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings, and married, and they're seventeen, hormones are a thing ok, specifically high school!them feelings, that brief golden time before Chris Keller that i feel doesn't get talked about, you can't tell me i'm wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsarenotforfree/pseuds/secretsarenotforfree
Summary: Haley fights the urge to bury her face in her hands and groan because now that she'd gone there, she had to realize forlornly there was no chance in hell that she'd be able to erase all those NC-17 images from her brain.All Work and No Play Haley James, distracted in the middle of a class she'd had no troubles focusing in before Nathan Scott came around.She was so screwed.
Relationships: Haley James Scott/Nathan Scott
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	something that'll haunt me when you're not around

**Author's Note:**

> i have a soft spot for naley that has grown into An Embarassing Large Lake of Adoration and this idea came to me right before bed not sober at five am. however, i write nothing about this. it is inspired be "may i feel, said she" by sugargroupie, the single greatest naley smutfic i have ever read in my LIFE. 
> 
> this was born from mashing up my initial vision, of nathan teasing haley about how many times he can make her come, and a newfound love for, as stated before, their brief golden episodes. anyways, hope y'all like.
> 
> title from 'sparks fly' by taylor swift which would basically be a season one naley song if you could trade blue eyes for green.

No one told you how much harder it got to concentrate in class after you were married.

Though the light blue lines of the page in front of her are covered in Haley James Scott (Scott!)'s loopy handwriting, she has had to jerk herself away from Nathan colored dreams and back to her World History class too many times to be proud of. If it was her thoughts projected in front of them rather than some pictures from the German reconstruction, her cheeks would burn through four different shades of red, she's sure.

But it's not her _fault_.

Things are just different.

Different how, when you start dating Nathan Scott you go from being a no one to a someone very quickly. Different how, it was one thing to get used to the heat of his hand in the back pocket of her denim skirt, to know how it felt to have him nuzzle behind her ear and the way his shirt felt crumpled in her hands, and another to know what everyone was thinking. Another to pretend that the whispers didn't bother her, as much as she lied to Lucas that they didn’t. 

_No, I didn't hear that Stacy Abrams, who I haven't talked to in over a year, told her lab partner that she thinks I've already given it up. No, it doesn't hurt my feelings when Cheerleader freaking Theresa thinks that Nathan Scott is too experienced for me and he's going to dump me sooner than later. No, it doesn’t still irritate me that a third of our junior class still thinks we only got married because I’m pregnant, which I’m definitely not._

Haley’s totally fine with all the rumors, and they absolutely do not get on her nerves or hurt her feelings.

(Total lies.)

Different how, it was one thing to have everyone _assume_ they were having sex.

It was another for everyone to _know_.

The Haley of before? She cared, a little.

Haley James wanted her integrity impeached. Haley James worried for approximately 0.02 seconds about other people's opinions on her dating objectively one of the biggest manwhores to walk the halls of Tree Hill High before lacing her fingers with his and walking bravely down the hallway. Haley James, wished painfully that she didn't seem to radiate an aura of 'virgin' to apparently, the whole school, and why was it such a big deal anyway? Her choice, jerkfaces.

Haley James Scott, however, most certainly did not care.

She felt damn lucky.

She loved, fiercely, both the gold band around her finger and the man that had given it to her. Nathan had been Haley's before, but now he was really _hers_ , handsome and cocky and talented and at her side. He's got his faults (Lord, did he), but he was _hers_. And when Haley James Scott feels her husband's hand at the small of her back, or heard his sleep roughened voice murmur good morning into her hair, she thinks about how lucky she is that she gets to have this forever.

Forever, at the moment, leading to her, right now, missing what Mr. Johansson was saying in favor of the lovely picture her mind was spinning up of her husband this morning. Grinning that devil may care smile, his painfully blue eyes sparking with that turn of naughtiness that was simultaneously annoying and frustratingly hot, on his knees and between her legs.

Between her _legs_!

Haley drops her chin to her arms and sighs, thankful that the darkened lights, necessary for the projector, hid her flush. 

"Hey _tutor wife_."

A tiny paper ball sails over her shoulder, landing on her desk before rolling promptly off, but it does its jjob. Brooke Davis, sassing her hair over her shoulder, a person Haley could have never in a million years dreamed about being friends with a year ago, narrows long lashes at her, leaning forward from where she sits a row and an aisle behind. Her B necklace glints from a gauzy high necked shirt Haley would never even pretend to be able to pull off. "Stop thinking porn so loudly." Brooke demonstrates with her hands, her voice somehow teasing, husky and knowing all at the same time. "Some of us are trying to pay attention."

Haley snorts and rolls her eyes. _As if._ It's in an affectionate way, a tone it wouldn't have held even last term, and the warmth of it is reflected when Brooke sticks her tongue out at her in response before returning to her doodles. If Haley leaned back in her seat at the right angle, she could almost see the sweep of a skirt, thick stripes and a stylish cut.

She makes it about three minutes before a flash of raven hair steals over her mind and she's lost once more. 

He really was skilled, that Nathan Scott.

Yes he'd been a proper ass before he became a real person to her, swaggering around proclaiming his so called legendary talents, but after so long of going so close _but not there_ every time it crossed that line she got a new wave of excitement like it was the first time. It was a pleasure, quite literally, that she now collected many of their times together in heated memories Haley locked tight to her heart.

The way he looked at her....for the first time in her life, Haley felt something like power rush through her, different than the high of seeing someone finally click the pieces together in tutoring or the calming pleasure at being a good friend. This felt deeper. Blazing hot and near drugging, when Nathan couldn’t resist from smacking her ass just a little when she passed him, at the wind of his strong biceps around her shoulders when he was feeling protective and possessive. 

Call it the teenage hormones, but there was just something about the way Nathan had bent her over on their kitchen table kind of made Haley's insides smolder to think about even more. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear his voice in her ear, telling her all the ways she was _such a good girl, my girl_ and the way her whimper tore out of her throat without permission from her, gripping onto the other edge for dear life. The ghost of his hand from that memory passes reassuring and persuasive over the freckled lines of her back and it makes Haley sit up in her chair in the present. Her hand, the one whose jewelry marked always and forever, scratches at the nape of her neck and hides the shiver she feels at the echo of Nathan's calloused, talent holding hand making a gentle fist in her hair. _Dear God._ She needed to get a grip.

Another paper ball brains her in the back of the head, followed with a hissed "Haley. Seriously. It's _distracting_ and it's too early in the day for me to even think about whatever High School Marriage Sex Tape mental images are going on in your head."

Haley fights the urge to bury her face in her hands and groan because now that she'd gone there, she had to realize forlornly there was no chance in hell that she'd be able to erase all those NC-17 images from her brain. 

All Work and No Play Haley James, distracted in the middle of a class she'd had no troubles focusing in before Nathan Scott came around.

She was _so_ screwed.

(Quite literally.)

* * *

Nate only gives half a shit in this class because Haley promised him that if he got at least a B on the next test he would get to leave as many hickies as he wanted to on her smooth, gorgeous neck.

He lounges in the second row from the back, hands locked behind his head, and grins like a madman. There is no good reason for his positive mood, because honestly a lot of things in his life aren’t working right now. There are three voicemails at home filled with Dan’s voice, full of disappointment and forceful reasoning telling him to stop while he’s ahead, there’s a new asshole at school that he has to strain mightily to resist planting a fist in his face (what the hell kind of name is _Felix_ anyway he’s not a fucking cat), and there aches in his body from places basketball never targeted from his new job at the autoshop part of his dad’s dealership. Basketball isn’t even in season, which Nathan always saw as a waste, even if logically, you needed an off season to work on your skills before the next one came along, and yet still.

This good mood he’s got going on - well it’s fueled by a very vivid imagination. An imagination that had zero trouble helping Nathan think about things a million times more engaging than Mrs. Woods literary analysis.

It’s altogether too easy to conjure up images of that inked **_23_ ** that, he likes to imagine, brands the small of Haley’s back as his, to picture every freckle and body mark on her body and every moment he’d gotten to reveal it to his gaze for the first time. It is too easy to remember how her slick mouth and hollowed cheeks threatened to pull confessions to God out from his soul, of the lock of her legs and arch of her back when Nathan was pounding _theretherethere_ and Haley’s too gone to be self conscious about it. If he closes his too blue eyes the right way he can paint, with his mind, a bring-him-to-his-knees picture of her, greeting him in his Ravens jersey and _nothing else_ after a particularly long day.

(God, he really was a lucky son of a bitch.

He prayed to whatever basketball gods that were listening that he didn’t fuck it up.)

Don’t ask Nathan to put a name to whatever scent was in her conditioner but it haunted his mind and soaked his pillow and their sheets with memories of her. Sometimes he catches a whiff of it in the hallway, a ghost of her in between the only two classes he can’t walk her to, and it gives him inopportune hard ons. 

He should mind, but he doesn’t. 

(Nathan doesn’t ever think that fire in him is gonna fade with her. The sight of her, languid and comfortable on their couch, swaddled in his t-shirt, her long legs shapely and all his to drink in and touch all over. Sometimes, when he kisses her, he thinks he’ll drown in it and never stop spiralling, lost in a hurricane of _HaleyHaleyHaley_ , her button nose, and cheeky smile, and how she moans into his mouth in an impossibly musical tone when he crooks his fingers inside of her.)

_“Nathan. Come on now, be reasonable. Pick a real number, not one you took from your self inflated sense of ego.”_

_They were in their bed, and it was a couple of days after the reception that Peyton, Brooke, and Lucas had thrown for them. School is right around the corner, and he can tell that it’s still bothering her how pissed off Deb seems to be about the two of them but at the moment, it’s just them. Them, and their bed, and the afternoon sunlight streaming onto the pillow and making Haley’s russet hair shine bronze and gold. Maybe it’s counterintuitive to take a shower and then slide back under the sheets with your wife, but she’d yawned and snuggled her pillow and suddenly all of Nathan’s willpower left him._

_“I’m telling you, Hales. Five. In a row.” He ran a finger along the line of her collarbone, cupped her breast in a familiar, comfortable way. That sense of casualty disappears when Nathan’s thumb brushes over her nipple purposefully, his knowing smile staying put even as she sucked in a gasp._

_“Five?”_

_“Five.” Nathan fastened a hand on her hip, pulled her closer. His lips land on hers purposefully, mouth more than experienced at making sure Haley knew just how much he wanted her. How much he’d always want her. Her hand played at tracing the lines of the defined muscles of his chest and caused a hitch in his hips when they brushed the dark dust of his happy trail. She knew how to play the game too, his wife, and could be fantastically naughty in ways Nathan was all too dedicated to finding out all of._

_Haley licked into his mouth and giggled, just enough to cause another rainfall of emotion to wash over his heart. God, he loved this girl. Suddenly, every ounce of patience Nathan had was lost to him, and his hand dives deeper. Stroking somewhere wet and hot and snug around his fingers when he experimentally pushes them in._

_“Now Haley, remember.” Nathan coached her, thumb working its way into a rhythm on her clit. “Five orgasms. Do me a favor and count them?”_

“Mr. Scott!”

He is yanked out of dreams of rumbling ragged words in his wife’s ear ( _You like that, Hales?_ ) by his unamused looking English teacher, blinking (on his part) and rude (on hers).

“I am sorry that my lecture isn’t stimulating enough for you, Mr. Scott. Anything I can do to alter that?”

Though Mrs. Woods tone is scathing and clearly joking, Old!Nathan wants to rear his head and tell her that unless she can magically transform into his wife, naked and willing, she’s shit out of luck. New, Trying To Be Better!Nathan just shakes his head, even though he’ll never really be able to erase his shit eating grin. “Nope. I’ll just work harder at it. I’m sure I can pull it together for the rest of class.”

Mrs. Woods narrows her eyes at him, sure that there’s a jibe in there somewhere, but a sharp ringing interrupts her. _Saved by the bell._ Minutes later, Nathan’s out in the hallways, searching, searching for - ah. There she was. Giggling, sandwiched between Peyton and Brooke, petite and mouthwatering in a white sundress that reminds him of their beachside wedding. He’s got a hand out, reaching for her even before she folds herself into his side, one hand sliding into his waiting one and the other grasping at his corded forearm. The memories of before this are lingering at his yesterdays, painful and still real every time he saw his parents, but occasionally Nathan likes to pretend that there has and only ever will be _this_ and _her_ for the rest of his days. 

(She was made for him, he realized late one night, buried inside of her as Nathan rocks into her from behind. It’s too late o’clock and it could be two or three, they blend together, but he’d awoken, groggy and aroused to the feeling of her snug and rocking so slightly against him. 

Haley did this sometimes, got carried away by whatever naughty things were happening in her sleep and acting out her frustration in sleepy heavy movements. She could turn him on in the space of a breath, his wife, and Nathan was more than hard already. Haley’s beautiful eyes cracked open, finally, when he stroked over the smooth expanse of her stomach, teasing and downwardly headed. When she comes for him, her hand clutched over his strong arm as she held on for dear life through the snap of his hips, it dimly occurs to Nate that she fits perfectly under his chin even while a cry wrings her lips. 

She is saintly around his cock and an angel to have in his arms, and she was made for him. Haley had to be.)

“Hey you.”

“Hey yourself.” Haley lifts on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek, and the part of him not savoring the smell of the mystery conditioner registers and promptly ignores Peyton’s quip about Haley being little miss basketball wife.

They all say their hellos and goodbyes, Lucas tugging on a lock of Haley’s hair as he passes on his way to go call Anna, and it’s just the two of them, walking out of school hand in hand. 

She presses her nose into his shoulder and moons big brown eyes at him, turning Nathan’s heart into a puddle. “How was your last class of the day?”

Nathan shrugs, pulling her closer. “It was fine. Happy to be done for the day. I have a tiny question for you though…” He dips his gaze to the curve of her hip, temporarily caught by the flutter of white fabric and a cream underskirt he’d seen this morning when she got dressed. “Did you get my text in fifth period?”

Haley’s cheeks color high and pink, her feathery brown gold hair attempting to hide it. Had she gotten his text? It had only been burning through her bookbag for the rest of the day, dancing through her mind like the devilish words they were. 

( _Next time I see you, I want those panties in my pocket. And not on you._ )

To say that she had control over the squeeze of her legs, and sudden dampness on said panties, would be a lie. 

She reaches into her bookbag and shakily draws out a wadded up scrap of navy blue, shoving it into his jeans pocket. Nathan laughs, deep and knowing, punctuated with her ineffectual slap on his shoulder. Haley’s got the strength of a cat or something, next to his, but it’s still cute every time. “Don’t act so cocky about it.”

“Mmm, but you like it when I’m cocky.”

“Shut up.” She exclaims, though this time it’s buried into a shy, mischievous smile.

“Don’t worry Hales. It will definitely be worth your while.” Nate hums, the hand not occupied with holding hers fingering that navy bit of fabric fabric in his pocket.

Nathan and Haley James Scott are seventeen years old and married and together and in love.

(And he thinks, despite what everyone says, there’s something very good about that.)


End file.
